For the Love of a Sten
by silvergryphon06
Summary: Sequel to "The Sten's Kadan"; Elissa and her companions have quite a journey ahead of them before they reach the Archdemon. Through laughter and sorrow, The Warden and the Sten will learn what it means to love in the world of Thedas. On Hiatus.


_**A/N: Hello, fellow readers of lovers of Dragon Age. First, let me say that I own nothing, I simply enjoy writing about these characters. Second, this is perhaps the beginning of a longer story, thus is the rating M for later chapters. Third, this is a sequel to my previous fic, titled "The Sten's Kadan", and will follow up, so to speak, on the events of that story. And finally, the continuation of this story will depend on the response of the audience, which is you :D, and if said audience would like to read more of this story. With all of that being said, I will most certainly be posting a second chappie soon, but, until then, please enjoy the beginning of what I hope is to be a beautiful relationship ;)**_

Elissa Cousland rarely allowed herself a moment of petulance. This was one of them.

"How _**dare**_ that...that...that _**cow**_ order me to support her in the Landsmeet! By the Maker, I ought to feed her to Dalreth raw; and she even had the nerve to summon me like some bloody maid to her chambers!"

If Sten had any opinion on the rather amusing tirade his beloved Warden was currently spouting, he wisely kept them to himself. On a normal day, he would have chastised her for losing her temper, but today she was furious enough that she might have punched through stone and not felt the blow. It was more than being indigent; the queen had asked her to betray a friend, to lay down her loyalty and bear the mantle of, what Anora had called, common sense. Alistair would make a great king, and, Maker's Breath, Elissa was going to see him on the throne if it killed her. Never breaking stride, she flung open the doors to the Arl's rooms and her scowl deepened at the servants' scuttling out of her way, like mice darting deeper into their holes when the snake had entered their den. Arl Eamon and her companions, to their credit, simply froze.

Oghren leaned over to Zevran and whispered,

"Looks like Queen Prissyass has pissed off the boss..."

Zevran nodded, but his eyes were dancing with mirth.

"Indeed. It may be prudent to keep how ravishing Elissa looks when she's angry to myself, but it is too tempting to watch those flashing--"

Somehow Morrigan's foot managed to stomp down on the elf's foot before he foolishly brought that storm upon them all. Thankfully, Elissa heard none of the exchange, her gray eyes focusing on Alistair and he gulped loudly. Then Sten's hand had come up and was resting on her shoulder. She whipped her head around, auburn curls bouncing. She glared back at him, but he simply said,

"_Kadan_."

That seemed to knock some of the wind from her sails. She dropped her head and breathed deeply, before raising it to look at the tense group before her. She watched Alistair's shoulders relax at her crooked smile. The Arl cleared his throat loudly.

"I take it Anora did not have anything useful to say?"

Reminded of the previous conversation, Elissa frowned as she and Sten came into the large study, the doors closing behind them. She went to the desk and leaned back against the hard wood, her arms crossed loosely beneath her breasts. She let her gaze fall on her boots, tracing the delicate Dalish patterns worked into the skin. Etched to resemble branches, the lines flowed and intertwined, bursting into a leaf here and there; marvelous craftsmanship and a love of their work reflected in every detail. Sighing, she caught Alistair's nervous glance.

"Her Majesty," the word tasted bitter on her tongue, "has insisted that I support her bid for the throne in the Landsmeet."

Morrigan scoffed and the Arl eyed Elissa uneasily. "And what was your response?"

Elissa's laugh was more like a bark. "Ser, I would not repeat that in such good company. Let it suffice to say that I doubt she will be asking me again."

The older man nodded. "I am glad that you so loyal to Maric's son, but-"

The Teyrn's daughter stood straight as she held up one gloved hand. "His name is Alistair. While his blood gives him the right to fight for the throne, it will be on _**Alistair's**_ merit alone that he will become King."

Alistair felt like her eyes were piercing straight into his heart as she spoke, her smooth voice resonating through the chill air.

"And I intend to see him become that King."

* * *

Sten found her later that night on her balcony. Well, to be exact, she was crouched on the railing, her small hands cupping her chin as she looked up into the night. He stood there, for a time, watching her. Finally, she turned her head and spoke over her shoulder.

"You can't see the stars here for all the city's lights."

He stepped out to stand a little behind and to the left of her, leaning over to brace his hands on the cold stone, not bothering to reply. She continued to gaze upwards, as if searching for any distant glow.

"In Highever, it always seemed as though the sky stretched out forever," her voice was low and husky, a regretful sorrow that he understood all to well. "I could sit outside till daybreak and still, I could see them, winking at me as the sun made them disappear..."

She trailed off, seemingly content in the silence and to anyone who could see them, they appeared as statues, gargoyles carved into the very stone. Finally, Sten's deep voice rumbled.

"You were right in what you told the Queen."

Elissa snorted as she looked over at him, rocking back on her haunches, only to lean forward again.

"And here I was worried that my wording was too vague for her to grasp my meaning."

Sten shook his head, his braided ponytail swishing against his neck and she could almost perceive a smile on his lips.

"No, _kadan_, I think the meaning of 'bat shit' was perfectly clear, even to a stranger in your lands, such as I."

She chuckled wryly. "Even so, I probably shouldn't have lost my temper like that. It is not prudent to make enemies in high places, as my father used to say."

He nodded what she could only assume was his agreement, so she turned her attention to the vast expanse of Denerim. The city lights glittered like thousands of fireflies, winking and twinkling against the darkness. She enjoyed these silent moments with Sten. There was no pressure for conversation, no need to make a connection; just being content to be in the presence of the other was enough. He never questioned her about what she was thinking and she felt no desire to know the inner workings of his mind, mostly because she knew them anyway. Sten was a Qunari warrior, plain and simple; he fought, he ate, he slept, he followed the Qun...and he loved her. The quiet joy she felt at that knowledge was often what kept her from running to her death amidst the darkspawn. The taint would kill her long before her time, but she would fill every moment that she could with him and she would face the archdemon alone, if she had to, to make sure he, and all of Thedas, made it home.

The big hand coming up to cover hers jarred her from her brooding. He had that look in his eyes; the one that he gave her each time his hands brushed through her hair or when she dropped a random kiss on his chest. The very look that made her heart skip a beat and her breath catch. The one that let her know exactly what the meaning of _kadan_ was to him.


End file.
